


my north star, my constant, my glowing forever.

by luckycharmz



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Ian Gallagher loving hours, M/M, Mickey loving on Ian, Post-Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27463618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckycharmz/pseuds/luckycharmz
Summary: Mickey threads his fingers through Ian’s hair, curly and warm all over from sleep.“Not jealous.” Ian’s eyes flicker to Mickey’s nails and then back at him. “Queens wear nail polish.”Mickey releases a soft huff, amusement written over his face. “Oh yeah? Guess you should get ‘em done too, ay?” His hand cradles Ian’s face, thumb running over his jaw tenderly.orIan experiences his first low after marriage and his husband is there for him.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 38
Kudos: 461





	my north star, my constant, my glowing forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a shameless excuse to write some Mickey loving up on Ian because someone needs to write it and I’ll always be fucking happy to.

Ian wakes to featherlight touches along his back. His eyes are still shut, too tired to open but his body seems to have woken. Ian feels soft breaths along his neck that make him shiver down to his spine. The room is dark before his eyelids so he figures it’s late, but he’s not sure. Time has been meaningless the past week, his days and nights are spent in bed- sometimes with Mickey and sometimes without. 

It’s not like he expected his bipolar to suddenly disappear after getting married, that everything would be perfect, but he got caught up. In the smiles and laughter floating throughout the Gallagher house, his wedding to the man of his dreams and the weeks that followed. The fatigue hits him out of nowhere though, one day he’s helping Debbie make dinner and the next he can’t get out of bed. 

He lets Mickey take him to the clinic the day after, going pliantly. His mind and body are numb, he doesn’t know how or when he makes it to and back from the clinic but then he’s home. New prescription bottles at his bedside and a constant reminder that no matter how good things get, they’ll always find a way to get bad. 

The cool metal of his ring wrapped around his finger is another constant, a new one, one that makes him clutch his hand in a fist— not wanting to wake up from the dream of being married to Mickey. But each day he wakes, the ring still where it’s meant to be and Mickey’s warm body around his own. 

Ian’s eyes flicker open, feeling heavy and mind lagging. He sees light peeking through the curtain but he can’t manage to put a time to it, what he does manage is hearing Mickey’s barely audible voice. 

“—and Franny said she’s painting your nails next so don’t even think about givin’ me shit, man. Whatever, looks fuckin’ badass,” Mickey says, his knuckles still moving up and down the expanse of Ian’s back in soothing motions. 

Ian realizes Mickey must be talking to him about his day and the thought makes his heart melt and soar all at once. He loves Mickey, so much, it’s indescribable. 

x-x-x

Mickey admires the view before him, all broad shoulders and thick muscles, dusted with freckles all over. He even has to put the vampire jokes to rest for now because Ian managed to get tanned one sunny afternoon in the backyard. Ian looks picture perfect and the one thing Mickey wishes in this moment is for him to feel it too. 

Seeing Ian in pain, silently hurting and not being able to do anything, makes Mickey feel useless. He knows all he can do is be there for Ian and he is, he will be— _till death do us part._

Mickey talks to Ian every day, whenever he’s fallen asleep, he manages to sneak into their bedroom and speak in hushed tones. Today he tells him about Carl overflowing the pool— _still blows my mind the moron is now my brother too,_ about Debbie making chocolate chip cookies and Franny painting his nails. 

“Mickey,” Ian croaks out, it’s dry and brittle but it’s sweet relief to Mickey’s ears. For a moment he doesn’t believe it but his mind finally catches up.

“Hey, sleepyhead.” Mickey moves his hand up to Ian’s shoulder and squeezes once, a small reminder that he’s here. The moment feels so serene. 

“Time s’it?” Ian mumbles. Mickey is all too happy to listen to Ian’s voice- that he spaces out again. “Mick?”

“Shit, yeah.” Mickey shifts to his side and checks his phone. “Just after six,” he says and then turns back to Ian. 

Ian hums, Mickey waits. 

“In the morning?” Ian asks and he feels so stupid to have to ask such a thing but he really doesn’t know, he can’t feel the difference. 

Mickey scoots closer, body not touching but enough to feel the heat radiating off Ian. Hoping his presence is comforting to Ian. “Evening,” he whispers, watching the wispy hairs along Ian’s nape flutter. He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around Ian, hold him closer, tighter and never let him forget who he is— he wishes it was that easy. 

Ian sighs, he’s not sure what answer he was expecting but he feels defeated. It takes all his energy to roll onto his back but he does and then his side is pressed against Mickey’s front. 

Ian doesn’t say anything so Mickey doesn’t move away, he does lean down though, brushing his lips over a smattering of freckles on Ian’s shoulder. “Hey.”

Ian tilts his head, catching Mickey’s eyes. 

Mickey smiles because Ian’s finally looking at him, forest green eyes, overgrown stubble and long hair matted to his face. Everything about Ian is breathtaking, sharp jaw and chiseled cheekbones, soft lips and like the rest of him, bestrewn with freckles. 

Ian doesn’t smile but his face looks soft, relaxed. “I heard you got your nails done.”

Mickey’s eyes widen a fraction and his brows raise before they furrow. “You eavesdropping now, Gallagher?” A part of Mickey wonders if Ian’s been awake for what he’s said on other nights, his heart races. 

“It was our conversation, babe.”

The easy use of the pet name makes Mickey smile helplessly, he’ll bitch and complain about it sometimes but secretly he loves it— only, he’s pretty sure it’s not so secret to Ian Gallagher. 

“Always gotta be a smartass, huh?” Mickey’s voice is fond and his eyes are happy as he shifts onto his back as well. His head is still tilted, watching Ian as he brings his left hand up. 

Mickey’s nails, like he said, are painted black. Only slightly messy along the cuticles but not obvious that they’ve been painted by a toddler. The black is a stark contrast against his pale skin and yet so similar to the colour of his tattoos. 

“Doesn’t look too bad,” Ian says and Mickey can hear the smile in his voice even if there isn’t one to be seen. _Yet_. 

“Cause yours would look any better?” It’s a stupid question because they both know they would. Ian has perfect hands, long slender fingers, right amount of muscle and bone and when flexed, his veins pop and look all sexy and— it’s _so_ stupid how good everything about Ian is. Mickey can’t complain though.

Mickey feels Ian shrug against his own shoulder and then his fingertips are brushing down Mickey’s fingers one at a time. The touch so soft and gentle, Mickey feels as though he doesn’t deserve it— that it’s Ian who deserves to be touched with such love now and forever. So that’s what he does, he flips his hand over and in one smooth motion he entwines their hands together.   
  
Mickey feels Ian’s hand squeeze, it’s light and fleeting but it must take all of Ian’s energy to do even that much. For the next moment he’s resting their intertwined hands over his heart. 

“Sometimes,” Ian says. Mickey hears him take an audible breath in and out. “I wish things weren’t like this.”

Mickey frowns, he knows what Ian means, of course he fucking does. But he hates the desperate and broken look on Ian’s face as he blinks slowly up at the ceiling. 

So Mickey does the one thing he knows. He props up on his elbow, hand still holding Ian’s and looks down at him with a soft smile. “Like what? You being jealous Franny did my nails and not yours?” 

Ian’s lips tug upwards slightly but it’s enough for Mickey to recognize it, his chest fills with warmth at the sight. Mickey threads his fingers through Ian’s hair, curly and warm all over from sleep. 

“Not jealous.” Ian’s eyes flicker to Mickey’s nails and then back at him. “Queens wear nail polish.” 

Mickey releases a soft huff, amusement written over his face. “Oh yeah? Guess you should get ‘em done too, ay?” His hand cradles Ian’s face, thumb running over his jaw tenderly. “I know,” he says after a moment, he knew what Ian had meant. 

Ian adverts his eyes before turning to hide in Mickey’s chest, melting into his body. “I just-”

“Hey, hey,” Mickey interrupts, voice low as he tilts Ian’s chin up. “In sickness and in health, alright?” 

Ian’s face is dim but his eyes are bright, they light up a room more than the moon ever could. He’s looking up at Mickey, a look akin to amazement washing over his face. Mickey doesn’t miss the hitch in his breath either. 

Mickey takes Ian’s silence that follows as a feat. Where once he would’ve argued, today he understands— Mickey is here for him, _forever_. He leans down and brushes his lips over Ian’s forehead and then kisses his hair.

“Hey, will you-” Ian pauses, voice muffled into Mickey’s side.

Mickey waits patiently, feeling Ian tangle their legs together under the sheets. 

“Will you just--hold me? For a little while.” Ian's voice makes something break in Mickey’s heart, it’s unsteady and Mickey thinks he’s moments away from crying. 

“Yeah, man. Course I will.” He moves into a laying position just as Ian rests his head over his heart, one arm wrapping around Ian’s shoulders and the other massaging his scalp. “Good?”

He feels Ian’s body go lax on top of him. “Soft,” Ian whispers, hands clutching Mickey’s sweatshirt. 

“You callin’ me fat, Gallagher?” 

“Not really-”

“Not _really_ , huh?”

“Kidding.” Ian tilts his head up, half smushed into Mickey’s chest but all Mickey can see is the smile in his eyes. Some people need expensive things to be happy, a car or a diamond ring. All Mickey will ever need is Ian’s smile, it’s priceless. He’s priceless. 

“Lucky you’re my husband.”

Ian adverts his gaze, tapping his fingers against Mickey’s ribs. “Yeah,” Ian’s voice cracks. “Yeah, I’m pretty lucky.” 

“Not as lucky as I am,” Mickey says. There’s nothing more true than those words, no matter what Ian will say, no matter what _anyone_ will say, Ian is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to him. In sickness and in health, the highs and the lows, it’s always going to be Ian for him. 

“What if-”

“No, Ian, none of that shit. This is how it is, who the hell even knows if we’d be here without everything that happened.” Mickey’s arm tightens around Ian, even like this, just having Ian close, it’s what makes Mickey feel safe. Ian is a steady presence in his life, someone he knows he can always lean on and know he’ll be there. Protecting him, standing up for him and never letting go. All Mickey can do is hope he’s able to do the same, to have Ian know that no matter what, it’ll always be them. 

“Kay,” Ian whispers, his voice is wet against Mickey’s chest and from where Mickey can see his eyes, they’re barely open. His grey shirt damp under Ian’s eyes. 

Mickey takes Ian’s wrist in his hand, thumb sweeping over it before bringing it to his lips. He kisses his wrist, his palm and his knuckles, then laying it over his chest. The fingers of his left hand run up and down his spine soothingly, coaxing him. 

“You’re not alone, Ian,” Mickey murmurs, watching as the light behind the curtain begins to dim with each passing second. “Hey.”

Ian hums, tilting his head and looking up at Mickey through damp lashes. 

“You fucking got this.” Mickey’s hand hovers over Ian’s face, hesitating for a moment, but the second he sees Ian leaning in, Mickey can’t help the relief that floods him. He swipes a thumb over Ian’s wet eyes lids, his cheeks, lets his thumb brush the soft skin under his eyes. 

For the first time in a week, Ian smiles.

Mickey holds him closer.

**Author's Note:**

> Ian Gallagher better be fucking happy and loved in season 11 !!!!


End file.
